Hello! I hope you’re doing well!

I hope you hope I’m fine too – that would be super nice and polite of you. In fact, it would be very normative to tell me that, so finally, I actually hope you don’t give a crap. Just enough to be original and a little different.

In short, I just started this post and I’m already babbling (SOMEONE PLEASE DIAGNOSE ME).

I wanted to tell you about some dating apps I’ve used and my experiences with them. Let it be known right away that I won’t be telling you about my magical wedding. I’m still very much single and roommates with a young woman full of ambition. These apps didn’t help my love life much but still, I lived some pretty funny experiences.

I’ll tell my stories site by site and then meeting by meeting. You may think I’m desperate and unfortunately, I can’t contradict you. In terms of the number of platforms I tried, I’m aware that there are many more out there, but keep in mind that I’m not writing a novel here.

Now that I think about it, I’m going to write a little trilogy of articles (one for each of the apps I tested)!

 

Badoo

Some put more emphasis on the “a” and others on the “oo”, but it remains the same word.

This dating site was created in the UK in 2006 by Andrey Andreev. I think I’ve had an account since 2007 (jeez…).

According to its description on the Apple Store, Badoo is the largest dating network in the world, with more than 340 million members.

Badoo works with your geographic location to show you which “bachelor” or “bachelorette” (because Lord knows not everyone is honest about their relationship status) is near you. The app (it’s first and foremost a website) is free, but if you want to have access to small privileges like knowing your likes or who added you to their favourites, you can pay and become premium member!

Badoo was the first real dating site I used. I have so many stories about it that I don’t even know where to start. If I remember correctly, the first time I visited the site was on my computer. 17 year-old me had downloaded my most beautiful pictures and I allowed myself to judge other users because I told myself that they were judging me too.

 

Mr. N

My first crush (let’s call him Mr. N) approached me by insulting my appearance. He called me fat and I immediately told him off. We then chatted for two hours and talked on the phone for seven. The same evening/night. When the sun rose at the same time as an abominable snow storm started brewing, he invited me to sleep at his house in the West of Montreal, a place I had almost never set foot in, while I lived in Prévost at my parents’ house. I of course went (I’m the girl in the horror movies who goes down to the basement after hearing a gunshot). He greeted me in his dorm wearing boxers that were much too loose and asking me to remain silent because his brother was sleeping in the room next door. Which I did. It was a morning full of awkwardness. Almost without sound and in total discretion. It was my first date. I never saw him again.

 

Mr. F

A few months passed before I decided to meet someone again. This boy seemed very nice. Small problem, he didn’t have a profile picture. I still decided to give him a chance. A few days passed since I matched with Mr. F and we get along well.

We then decided to talk on the phone. Which we did a few times. Another small problem, he had a very high pitched voice that bothered me a little but hey, who am I to judge someone according to their voice?

After two weeks of chatting, we ended up finding an evening to meet up. He wanted to go to the drive-in in his pickup truck of the year. I said ok. By now, dear reader, I know you must think I’m brilliant and full of good ideas. Thank you. Wait until I tell you what’s coming next. You’ll want to award me a Nobel Prize.

The day before our date, we called each other as usual. This time, he wanted to confide in me about stuff from his past. He wanted to tell me, before our meeting, that he had spent six months in jail because he had violently fought one of his co-workers. He also wanted to tell me that he was previously a racist but that he was getting his swastika tattoos removed. I imagine that he regretted it. You’ll understand that this quickly became another small problem. I know you’re probably saying to yourself that I should have canceled! It seems to so simple… but at the time, it didn’t seem so simple because I had given him my phone number AND address so he could pick me up the next day. This guy, whom I had never met, was starting to scare me a little.

The fateful day arrived. I was ashamed, but I called a friend to tell her where I was going and I gave her the stranger’s phone number.

I heard my phone ring. He was in front of my parents’ house (who were away at the time). My heart was beating so fast. All I knew about him was that he had a chipmunk voice, was a racist, and went to jail for nearly killing a colleague. I went out through the garage door, the kind of big doors that open by pushing a button. I saw his huge black pickup. The guy driving it was bald and wearing very small sunglasses with a gray frame and orange/blue/green lenses… he greeted me by sticking his tongue between his fingers held in a V-shape, clearly showing me that he wanted to have oral sex. Unless he still had Cheetos powder stuck in the hollow between his index and middle fingers.

My reflex was to close the door. I waited a good minute before opening it again. I came out saying that I had forgotten my phone inside. I had time to text my friend instructing her to to call me an hour later and pick me up. One hour had never felt longer.

He stank of onions. He was talking crap like a 33-year-old guy who wanted to show a 17-year-old girl that he still loved clubs and was able to keep up with her.

The following events happened quickly.

We arrived at the drive-in park, the guy payed, we talked a little, he got on my nerves, I became arrogant. He told me that he had saws and knives in his trunk and that I should be careful. He also boasted of knowing where to bury me without anyone being able to find me. I slapped him. He told me to stop, I told him that I would get out of his gigantic vehicle and that my friend would pick me up. He left me alone in the parking lot of the St-Eustache cinema. I never saw him again.

 

Mr. G

Mr. G’s story is a relatively happy one. We met on Badoo a few months after Mr. F, in 2010 maybe. He, at least, had several pictures. He was my age, he studied art, and made music. Small problem… he lived in Rimouski.

Mr. G and I got along right off the bat. Our phone calls were perfect and after several weeks, we confessed our love to each other. Yes, I know it’s weird, but I was young. Months passed and conversations (as well as “I love yous”) became more and more rare until the summer of 2015 when Mr. G texted me to tell me he moved to Montreal… with his girlfriend. Yeah, seemed like he had forgotten about me.

We decided to go to the restaurant together that same evening. We got along so well. I found him gorgeous, he found me gorgeous. We went home. We texted a few minutes after we left to go our separate ways and decided to see each other the next day.

He joined me at a party in a bar. We didn’t really know how to act around each other. I don’t know if you know, but we were in love without seeing each other or touching each other for three years… it was really something to see that person in front of you. He left early, we texted a few minutes afterwards, and decided to see each other again the next day.

He came to my house. We tried to watch a movie. After 15 minutes, he decided to put his head on my lap. I decided to play with his hair. He raised his head and kissed me. My first reaction: “Yeah, but you have a girlfriend.” He got up, told me that he didn’t imagine it happening this way. I had ruined everything. He told me he was fucked up. He left. I never saw him again either.

I still have a shitload of stories to tell you. Meetings from Badoo, Tinder, and Happn …

I’m telling myself that I may have to write more than a trilogy. I hope you’re interested! I’ll try to disperse them through my much more cultural articles, what do you think?

Also, I’m been thinking about starting a podcast (if you don’t know what a podcast is, I wrote an article about it in April 2018). If you think it’s a good idea, let me know!

Thank you for reading what I have to say. This was kind of therapeutic. I think I’m ready to enter the dating world again (I’m totally lying).

 

Bye

Vanessa Duchel